"Captain resistor is dead!", exclaimed an injured pilot, as she crawled her way onto the dragoon cruiser. "And so is crewman Shuttleworth! And so is... ah, whatever our swordsman's name was!"
"Woah, did you say the captain is dead? You sure?", the Navigation Officer responded.
"We were on our way to execute our target in the urban zone, to complete our death warrant mission", explained the pilot, "Captain resistor was trying to test his theory that he didn't need a full team of combat specialists, as long as his team coordinated its fire on one enemy at a time. Then we got into a firefight with the target, and we were all shot down. I barely survived."
"Okay", the Navigation Officer said, "We'll hold an election for a new cap-"
"NOT SO FAST!", the Spy Officer interrupted, "Let's all pretend like nothing happened and he's still alive! After all, there are still a couple missions in this quadrant contracted in his name. I have a fake mustache in my cabin, so I can surely impersonate him so we still get paid."
The Navigation Officer and injured pilot nodded in agreement to the Spy's plan, and the ship took off to make progress on their missions. A few weeks later, the ship was taken to a hyperspace tunnel, to complete the final steps of the crew's missions in their home quadrant. Unfortunately, someone spilled cofee on the navigation assist module, destroying it, and the Navigation Officer forgot to carry the two in his calculations, causing the ship to be lost in hyperspace and probably destroyed.And yes, one of my games really did end like this. The captain's death seemed to only free up an officer slot, but when I tried the hyperwarp tunnel it crashed (and would just crash again if I tried to load captain).
Last Edit: Mar 11, 2017 1:15:58 GMT -5 by resistor
May your death be remembered by all... and stop confusing me with Zer0winds!
Captain Grävling was sitting in her Bridge/Cabin when her first officer ran in, out of breath.
"Come quick! The crew is mutinying!".
Captain Grävling gave her first officer a withering stare. "You're too easy on them, which is why you never get proper respect. I'll show the ungrateful swine." Grabbing her sword, she marched to the top of the ladder which led down into the common crew area. Then, to her first officer's surprise, she simply jumped the 10 meters and landed, in a fighting stance, in the middle of a group of surprised crew dogs.
"So," she shouted. "Which of you disloyal toads have been plotting against me? Speak up now!"
All the crew backed away. Mutters of 'Not me, cap'n.' and 'I'd never!' and other phrases expressing the same sentiment were heard all over the deck.
Captain Grävling shrugged at her first officer. "Looks like everything here is under control to me."
Rychart Bounty Hunter Captain Grävling marched into her Prince's office, resisting the urge to slam the door behind her. She was not in a good mood.
"Don't offer me any more Patrolling missions over Imtiny," she barked. "I'm not interested."
"Now Grävling," said the Prince at his oiliest, "you know that protecting the commercial interests of our allies is vital to the continuing success of our Syndicate. It may be boring, but somebody has to do it."
"Boring?" snorted Grävling. "Oh how I wish! Protect de Valtos shipping on Imtiny, a place of commercial importance, you said. Independent pirates are crippling trade, you mentioned. The feeble de Valtos fools can't fight their way out of a paper bag, were your exact words, I recall. That is what you remember telling me about this mission, don't you agree?"
The Prince nodded.
"Well, I can tell you that you were right about the 'feeble military'. Didn't see a single de Valtos military craft the whole time I was there. But you were wrong about the 'commercial importance'. Didn't see a single merchant ship, or even a smuggler the whole time, either. Not too surprising, given that Imtiny doesn't even have a spaceport. And the pirates? Well, they were, quite sensibly, all away someplace else where there happens to be some commercial activity, harrassing the merchants there. So, no, Pirates weren't the problem. I'll tell you what the problem was.
I ran into 4, yes 4, Steel Song Zealots over Imtiny!
And Steel Song considers me a Legendary War Criminal! So were you actually trying to get me killed with this mission, or do you have a spy in your office that tipped off Steel Song?
Last Edit: Apr 19, 2017 8:36:36 GMT -5 by grävling
phone: Huawei Y3ii LUA-L21 OS 5.1 Android EMUI 3.1 Lite Kernel 3.10.65 Build # LUA-L21C576B105. Android Security Patch 2016-03-01
Coolest Tablet Yet! (now rooted!) NVIDIA Shield Tablet K1 Android Version 7.0 (Nougat) Kernel Version 3.10.96+ buildbrain@mobile-u64-831 #1 Sat May 20 07:26:59 PDT 2017 NRD90M.1928188_904.2811 Shield Version 5.2 (24.29.404.153)
Officer Pablo Scorch enters the Bridge in response to a summons by the Captain, a year after launching into space.
Officer Pablo Scorch: You called, Sir? Captain Vega: Ah, good. You are finally here. You've been a loyal officer since the beginning, so I'm in quite the predicament. I've been reviewing your bio and annual performance report. Your Fortitude is really subpar for what I'd consider reasonable for an Officer. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you were blown to smithereens by the next Torp hit. Aside from that, other than a few paltry Skills, you really aren't contributing much to the operations of our ship. As you know, we've recently hired a few highly skilled recruits, all of whom I'm sure are vying for your job. Do you think you have any redeeming qualities, Pablo? Pablo: Umm, I'm a really Attentive Boss, Sir. Vega: I'm afraid that's not good enough. Here's your final credstick. Hope you enjoy your stay planetside.
Officer Pablo Scorch takes the final week's wages. [Attentive Boss Trait fires.]
Pablo: Sir! I've uncovered a hidden trait on one of crew — Sharp-witted, Sir! Vega: Oh? That's excellent news! The last two Sharp-witted fellas were promoted to Officers as soon as I took hold of this ship, and I've never regretted it since. So, who is it? Pablo: Officer Pablo Scorch, Sir!
Vega: Nice bit of self-reflection there. And impeccable timing too. Okay, Pablo. Why don't you just ignore everything we've said today, and head back to your station. Keep up the good work. Pablo: Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!
Pablo continues his career and has since uncovered many other hidden Traits of crew members. In keeping with his lackluster character, he is currently a Lv23 Gunner/Engineer/Star Trader with many useless (yet-to-be-implemented) Talents.
Electronic Tech Hypatia Cade calls the attention of Captain Impossibly Lucky.
E-Tech Hypatia Cade: ARC Sensor contact, Captain! A Xeno ship spotted at 100,000 meters and closing fast! Captain Impossibly Lucky: Alright, let's hightail it out of here before any of our Officers get blown up. Cade: Err, one sec, Captain. The Xeno ship is actually broadcasting as Clan Javat. Lucky: What? Is that a thing now? Cade: Might be a Narvidian-controlled vessel trying to pass off as a Faction ship, Ma'am. Lucky: In that case, bring us in. This I gotta see.
Ship Combat commences. As expected, the Xeno ship's Torping ability is worse than Steel Song's.
Cade: Victory in battle, Captain! The enemy has signaled their surrender! Lucky: Excellent. Now blow those Xeno posers apart. Can't have them going around sneaking up on people. Gunner Daryen Shuttleworth: Yes, Ma'am! [All weapons rain fire on the ship. Only debris remains now of her hull and cargo.] Cade: Captain, it seems we've just taken a -16 Rep hit with Clan Javat. Lucky: What?! But that was a Xeno ship! Cade: Apparently it was properly registered on their systems, somehow. Lucky: Damn bureaucrats. Fine fine. Zeb, prepare some press release mumbo jumbo for them. Diplomat Zebediah Narglesnarre: Yes, Captain. [Magnanimous Victory Talent fires.] Lucky: In the mean time, have Sarnia lead a team out there and see what artifacts we can salvage off that wreck. And call in the local salvage guild. Zeb: I've distributed the press release, Captain. Our "honorable approach to victory" has restored 17 Rep with Clan Javat. Lucky: Excellent work! Wait, but that's more Rep than what we lost to begin with? Zeb: Quirk of the system, Ma'am. I'm sure someone will fix it eventually.
Meanwhile, Mechanic Sarnia, an Expert Salvager, inspects the wreckage and identifies a treasure trove of Xeno artifacts and weaponry that could be easily repurposed in the right hands. Ships from the local salvage guild also arrive on scene for their independent assessment.
Cade: Captain, the salvage guild has completed their assessment. They are offering us 992 credits for the wreckage. Lucky: BUT THAT'S A DAMNED XENO SHIP!! Cade: They point out the Javat flag on the hull, and claim the Xeno tech is just from some destroyed cargo. Would you like me to petition for an official meeting with the Guild Ombudsman for arbitration? Lucky: Damn these guilds and their guild rules! We'll all be retired by the time we get a meeting scheduled. Just take the blasted credits.
Lucky: All right, listen up! Senior Staff meeting in half an hour. I want everyone to brainstorm 3 ideas for how to convert our ship into a mobile salvage yard. We are going to make enough money to buy out that blasted salvage guild, then fire every single one of their asses. Anyone who doesn't come up with a decent idea is going on airlock inspection duty. Dismissed!
Javat Bountry Hunter Captain Grävling walked into Stuart Absyn's office. The ex-Bounty hunter and she had always had a very good relationship. Indeed, the man was smiling bemusedly as she walked over to a chair, and sat down at his nod.
'Grävling!' he beamed. 'Just the woman I wanted to see. I've got an odd one for you, and you only.'
Grävling frowned. The bounty-hunting and prisoner-transporting profession rarely requires creative impulses, or original thought. Nerves of steel? -- yes. Athleticism? -- check. Marksmanship? -- essential. Ability to Intimidate information out of strangers -- Bounty Hunters who lack this will go hungry. But Clan Javat has dozens of Bounty Hunters with all of these qualifications. If there was something she could do that any of these other top hunters could not, it did not immediately come to mind. Except, she thought, she might be green enough that Stuart Absyn thought he could get her to do a job that the other hunters had already rejected. Not a pleasant thought.
'Ah', she replied. 'And how many other Bounty Hunters did you have to make this proposal to, before you decided to serve it to me with the best butter?'.
'Astute, as always,' he smiled. 'But you see, it is nothing like that. It seems that the Prince wants you to go back to Chelseytown.'
Inwardly, Grävling's heart lurched. Had the Prince decided to sell her out to the Independents there? Being betrayed by your own faction after completing a job wasn't something that Bounty Hunters generally worried about, but there were always stories.
'Ah, if the Prince is working under some sort of delusion that I can get close to the Fenian League again, having got information out of them the last time, then you had better straighten her out. That was a one-time-and-one-time-only sort of deal. They won't be speaking to me now.'
Absyn chuckled. 'No, that wasn't the plan, either.' Let me lay it out for you. You remember the cult-terrorist, Padraig Kelly you executed in Chelseytown?'
'May I ask what you did with his body?'
'We buried it.'
'In one piece? Where?'
'In a churchyard.'
'Ah, here it gets a bit complicated. But I can explain. I assume you knew that Kelly was a senior member of something called, alternatively, The New Irish Republican Brotherhood, the Fenian League, and Clan na Gael?'
'Do you know the history of that organisation?'
'All I know is that a bunch of them started blowing up Clan Javat Orbital stations, demanding something they called Republican Rule.'
Grävling nodded. 'Well, the founder of their organisation was an antiquities nut. And he claimed to have found the original flag of the Irish Republican Brotherhood. It looked like this:
And he used this flag and more ancient historical records he found all heavily laced with a bunch of wishful thinking to conclude that Clan Javat was descended from the original Irish or Gaels, whoever they were. They seem to be some sort of ancient Faction. At any rate, the original Irish Republican Brotherhood, according to legend, spent its time fighting a larger faction, or maybe two factions called the Brits and the Orangemen, demanding home rule and Republican Government -- whatever that was. These ancients seemed to spend all their time in spice districts, drinking plenty of vudka of a sort which they called whiskey, before going out to blow up the starports, and in general causing grievious harm to persons and property.
And, at least according to the founder of the cult, they were eventually successful in their goals and formed the Republic of Ireland, which is the historical predecessor to Clan Javat. So it is the self-oppointed task of this New Irish Republican Brotherhood, to emulate their ancestors and in so doing return Clan Javat to the proper and correct path of governance. Which is how they justify the atrocities. But it means that anything that was done, or at least the cult believes was done by these perhaps-mythical ancestors, is something they choose to do as well, as a way to honour their past. Thus, they have decided that the proper and authentic thing to do with corpses -- all corpses, not just ones you don't want incoveniently showing up as part of somebody's homicide investigation -- is to bury them. In wooden boxes. Which you put in the ground.'
'Isn't that terribly unsanitary?' asked Absyn?
'I'll say!' agreed Grävling. 'But probably better than just leaving them out for the animals to eat. And there were formal places where you did this sort of burying. You didn't just dig a hole someplace, and hope that somebody else hadn't already decided that this was the perfect last resting place for his grandfather. It was all organisised by something called the Catholic Church, and you buried people in plots, which you bought from the church, with a big, impressive ceremony to go with it. After you had put them in the expensive wooden boxes. And then you stuck a stone marker on the top, which said who it was that was buried there. At least, that is what the Fenians say used to be done. Who can tell what really happened all those ages ago? It sounds unlikely to me.
But what counts is that the Fenians, who are big on adopting old customs they claim to have discovered, have made these churchyard-things all over Chelseytown, and you can buy a plot in any of them, reserved for your future use. So we bought one, and a proper wooden box, and, ah, we used it late one night. We figured the last place that people would start looking for a particular body was in a churchyard. People tend to assume that the body in the ground is the one that the label says is supposed to be there.'
'Smart.' concluded Absyn. 'And a great relief. Because it means you can go back there, and dig the thing up and bring it here.'
'I can do what? and more importantly why?!' gasped Grävling.
'Well, the way the Prince explained things to me, now that we have more or less eliminated the violent end of the Fenian League, we are left with the talk-talk side. And the Prince thinks they can be reasoned with, and it is time to make peaceful overtures to them.'
'And they need proof that Padraig Kelly is dead? Why won't they accept the usual assurances?'
'No, they are certain he is dead. It's just another one of those customs they have either discovered, or maybe they invented the whole thing. It seems utterly crazy. But, according to the Fenians, when an important person in your organisation dies, you have to have something called a wake. And that seems to be a pomp-filled drunken party, a sort of ceremony, performed to honour the corpse -- who has to be present at the whole affair, in one of those wooden boxes you mentioned.'
'You cannot mean ....'
'Yep. The Prince wants to hold one of these wake-things at the Palace. And for that, she needs his corpse. So be a dear and go get it for the Prince. There's extra money in this for you. A bonus. And, like I said, you are the only one ....'
Absyn was still laughing as Grävling made her way out of the office.
"Captain, I am sorry to interrupt, but we have a problem with the cargo, that needs your help." exclaimed the flustered Crew Dog.
Captain Grävling had almost finished the last bite of a magnificent meal, and so was feeling in expansive good spirits. "So, explain to me exactly what sort of cargo problem one can have that demands the full attention of a Star Trader captain?" she chuckled.
"Ah, ah, ah ..." The Crew Dog seemed to be at a loss for words.
"Y-y-y-e-e-e-s-s-s?" prompted the captain. "Take a deep breath, and then tell me. I won't bite."
"Sir, we need you, sir, to negotiate with the Data Cube that is refusing to go into the cargo bay. It insists that it belongs in a passenger cabin! And the only passenger cabin we have is the luxury one you said to get ready for the Negotiator who is coming on board when we reach North Pines! Sir!" squeaked the Crew Dog.
Post by thespaniard on Dec 22, 2018 15:16:56 GMT -5
Captain Magus' Account, Entry 340:
It has been cycle one thousand and twenty since I took command of the Epoch, and despite the Arbiter's and Prince's "generosity," we've barely managed to stay afloat with the constant repairs and refueling. The harassment from Clan Thulun's armada slowly drains our savings, and while we are able to fend off and repel most attacks relatively unscathed, these encounters have taken their toll on our crew, and rightfully so, as even among my most trusted Officers there are whispers that the Epoch hasn't much of a future if this trajectory continues.
In light of these rumblings, I decide to reach out to the Prince and implore him to speak with his connections, and ask if there's anyone looking to contract an experienced Captain - particularly anyone seeking a Dragoon filled with eager crew members ready for battle or whatever this quadrant needs. It isn't long after that I receive a tellecomm, a blip on my nav. screen, and soon reports of a Nobleman's abduction by Clan Steel Song pour in. Immediately, I feel apprehension, and there are many red flags: Steel Song are not to be trifled with, adding to it the necessity to do our own sleuthing in their space. Having no other recourse, I ultimately decide to take the job, and set course for Clan Steel Song territory. Our first destination is to spy on their periphery planets, pray that we're not found, while we carefully seek the necessary intelligence. It is when we finally find the data stream pinpointing our target's exact location, that we're attacked by several pirate ships. They're ill equipped, and their armor is thin, so the battles are quick but not without their cost - the Epoch's hull takes some damage, and without the necessary credits for proper repairs, we make our way through the first of two worm holes necessary to reach the magma, ash ridden world, of our hapless nobleman.
It is then that our worse fears are imagined, perhaps being tipped off by local authorities, a Clan Steel Song Privateer intercepts our Dragoon right as we are preparing for warp jump. The leader of the pack: an imposing heavy cruiser armed with long range batteries capable of devastating barrages, it doesn't take long to realize the Epoch is clearly outgunned, even if we hadn't taken previous damage from other smaller pirate ships previously our chances were negligible at best. I order one of my Officers, Doctor Jacen de Cain, to accompany three of my most promising fighters: the first was a crew member by the name of Ayjona Black, a rough git and grizzled soldier armed with an automatic rifle, he's veteran of many battles and a boon to have him aboard. The other two were Livana Renashai and Vali Jaeger, both capable swordsman in their own right, both with varying talents and skills and incredible dexterity. They're instructed to gather together, and head to the loading bay. Gritting my teeth, I direct the Epoch to aim straight at our hull, into the bowels of the large enemy cruiser. As it the Epoch streaks toward the large vessel, shrugging off heavy fire as it makes its advance, to successfully ram and board the Steel Song ship. Our officers and crew fight like madmen,cutting down waves of defenders to eventually sabotage and blast away much of the enemy's forces. At the last moment, as fires aboard the Epoch's bridge engulf half of my crew, a gunner manages an impossible angle to fire a volley with our last functional cannon, right into the hull of the enemy's bridge, blowing it to pieces - the ship held, but the shot killed the enemy's captain. The resulting chaos is enough to change the tide of battle, as our soldiers we were able to overwhelm the remaining defenders, to narrowly win the fight.
It was a miracle, and the Epoch had survived. After conscripting the heavy cruiser's remaining troops, we ransom what is left of the ship before we make our hard earned warp jump. Unfortunately we do so despite a dwindling fuel supply and destroyed hyperdrive; the hypderdrive gone along with most of the ship's internal structures. It is after this harrowing jump, and the near destruction of the Epoch, that we face our first of many mutinies - thankfully, none boiling over to outright revolt, as I am able to promise the crew an increase in wages that everyone will receive when we complete our current task of saving the Nobleman. Nonetheless morale is low, so we make one last stop, and with the last remaining credits we refuel the Epoch for what could be its final voyage, only barely managing to repair what was left of our hyperdrive, for when we must return back to Cadar, knowing confrontations with anything more than a tugboat would spell our demise.
Ultimately, we land on the ash-laden world where our captor's hold our target, and it is not long before we find the encampment. It is soon clear that we are dealing with more pirates, a particular hard-bitten group of veteran and experienced murderers, rapists, and thieves. We attack under the cover of an ash storm, and while my landing crew grabs an early advantage, their rifleman prove to be too much - especially their sniper hidden behind a outcropping of boulders. Our soldier and medic go down first, and soon enough, it's our last swordsman against their sniper, and heavy weapons' specialist. However, with several superficial bullet wounds, and in true Cadarian fashion, Livana Renashai's will never falters and she manages to outflank them. With a flurry of attacks and counters to their every step and movement, she cuts down the honorless pirates within moments of being in striking range. Her nimbleness a blur for onlookers as she darts through the terrain that seem like home to her, she seems unaffected by her impressive wounds she sets our target free. A glorious battle, Livana's heroics not only earned her a promotion - the adoration of our entire ship - but she had saved our lives with her brilliant quick-thinking and Xendu-like talents.
At that point, we have one more chart to course, back to Cadar and return our much relieved noble home. The Epoch has 90% of its weapons and components fried, but with our hyperdrive intact, the trip is passable as we have just enough credits to fuel our voyage. However as we make our last warp jumps, we are again attacked by pirates, but through some other miracle we lose what little is left of our hull's armor - and devastatingly enough - our hyper drive. With no recourse yet again, we make the last jump with the pirates hot on our heels, and somehow find our way home, to complete our contract and receive our payment. Currently the men and women of the Epoch are enjoying much needed rest and relaxation, our financial future now more secure than ever, and the ship itself having every corner reviewed, repaired, and refitted.